


Bez światła, Bez Nadziei

by WingedChickadee



Series: Ten's Adventures of Misfortune (and maybe some not so bad adventures) [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 14:28:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13483419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingedChickadee/pseuds/WingedChickadee
Summary: It was cold when it happened. They fell out of a tree and barely held on to Zol. When they woke up, they were aware of their lost light. Ten has no light, no ghost, and no way to reach anyone they knew outside of Noc. Danger lurks around the corner, and fighting the slowly regrouping Fallen is more dangerous than ever. Everything is too overwhelming, and Ten tries hard to just not crack under the pressure. They fought and took down Oryx, they helped build and protect Noc over centuries. They'll be okay, right?





	Bez światła, Bez Nadziei

The woods were quiet, a light layer of snow on the ground. The only sound they can hear is their breath, and the woods have heavy shadows cast by moonlight. It’s peaceful. Ten relaxes against the trunk of the tree they are in, rifle in their hands. Their cloak’s hood is up, protecting them from some of the wind and snow. It’s warmer than not having one, but it is still finger-numbing cold. Their body is stiff from lack of movement and they shift to stretch their body a bit. Joints pop and Ten groans quietly, even after centuries their body still likes to feel sore from certain jobs. Sitting still and being a lookout is one of them. Even with thirty years of straight watchtower duty, they still can’t manage to sit still without some pain. It’s a little sad if they have to be honest.

Zol hovers around them and nudges their cheek. A sign of worried affection from their little ghost. He moves from their cheek to nuzzle in their cloak, the metal of Zol oddly warm and cold at the same time. He doesn’t have to be out here. Zol could easily stay in his little pocket away from the cold and still talk to them. But having him physically being here helps them stay grounded. It helps them not get overwhelmed by everything, which causes them to get lost and distant. They feel him nuzzle their cheek again and turn their head to look at him.

“How long until the next shift comes?”

Ten shrugs and some snow falls off their cloak from the movement. It’s been snowing most of the night. Which means that there is probably a lot of snow on them currently. So Ten takes a second to shake out their cloak with some vigor; Zol moves out of the way to avoid snow landing on him. More snow falls away and Ten sighs. Hopefully, it won’t snow much more, it’s going to but they can have their small silly hopes about the weather. Either way, there is going to be lots of shoveling to do and their already sore body really just doesn’t want to do that also. It is a mind-numbing task, but even they dislike shoveling it.

‘Not until the sun is rising. So a long time. You don’t have to stay out in the cold though Zol, I’ll be okay.”

‘I want to. The snow is pretty when the moonlight hits it. Plus, your cloak is comfortable.’

Even with gloves, Ten’s fingers feel numb from the biting cold. They stretch out their fingers and bring them to their mouth, blowing warm air over them. It really only helps a little bit. Gods, they hate how cold it gets here, even after centuries. In their own foolishness, they did not expect it to get this cold during the night. Now they’re paying for it. Joy. These are one of the times they wish they had solar light, along with their void. If anything, the void light makes them colder at times. So try to warm up they jump down from their spot and walk around in a circle around the little space they have in between the trees. Not for too long though. It’s only two or three circles before their butt is back in that tree. 

“Ten do you need anything? I can go back to Noc and transmat some warmer gloves if you want me too.” Zol asks with some concern.

‘No, it’s fine Zol. I might take you up on that later, but, I’m good. How’re you doing though little buddy?’

“Oh well, it’s really cold out and I am going to now plant myself back into your cloak.”

Ten laughs and shakes their head at their ghost.

‘Alright, Zol.’

Zol places himself back into Ten’s cloak. They jolt a bit from the cold metal, but eventually, it becomes unnoticeable. A comfortable silence falls between them, and Ten can relax just a little as they stare out at the woods.

Ten stretches intermittently and they can’t help wonder how the other lookouts are doing; there are a few new one's tonight, ones not used to the long cold hours. They hope that the newbies dressed warm enough, but, since they themself didn’t they don’t expect that those guys did either. 

They crack their back again and reach into their side bag, pulling out a small worn book full of drawing supplies. Might as well. The Fallen aren’t active tonight and they’ve been staring at the same spot on the tree in front of them for hours. Even with as much help as Zol is, they need another distraction tonight. It’s too close to that anniversary. 

‘Zol, do you want to be drawn again?’

Zol moves from his spot in their cloak’s hood and does his version of a nod. He lets out a small whine though. It’s cold outside of Ten’s cloak.

“Sure! Please just don’t have me sit in the snow again? It was cold.”

Ten sticks out their tongue playfully at their old companion and joke, ‘Oh I thought that it was only a smidge cold out. But yeah, no snow Zol. Don’t worry.’

Their tongue stays stuck out in concentration as their sketch their hovering ghost, and the forest around him. There is just enough light from the moon and Zol’s eye to draw. It’s a strain, but it’s a distraction also. What they don’t mean to have happen is for it to start to seem so empty and overwhelming. With Zol being so small compared to the trees and never-ending darkness beyond him and under him, it was hard for it not to feel like a forest that was about to crush their friend. Despite the ominous feeling, they continue to draw. It isn’t a terrible drawing if they say so themself, and manage to get a basic outline and some details in as the sun begins to crest. The light breaking through the branches of the trees and creating intricate patterns on the ground. Soon the other person will come to replace them and they can go get a few hours of sleep before they’re needed to do other stuff.

Ten sighs and looks down at the brightening snow, thinking of their friend. He left a couple hours ago to go back to the City, and they hope he got there safely. Or will get there safely soon. The ride to the City is always longer than they remember. It’s a reminder they are faced with every single time they head over there. Which isn’t very often, to be honest. Snow tends to make fun of that fact, along with their height but bruised kneecaps are his payment for those comments. Ten can’t help but let out a quiet laugh as they think of their friend, which Zol notices.

“What are you laughing at?”

‘Just thought of Snow and one of the stupid things we’ve gotten up too that the Vanguard wasn’t the most overjoyed to find out about.’

“Oh, and which one of many would that be?”

‘You know, all of them.’ 

Ten sticks their tongue out at Zol and he rolls his eye and shell. For someone who puts caution and stealth above everything else, Ten knows they can be an impulsive idiot at times. Usually when on a strike mission that isn’t a world ending one. They take their missions seriously, but, sometimes well spontaneous accidents happen. Cayde finds them hilarious, sometimes. Zavala never does, ever. 

“You almost done the drawing?”

‘Yeah, want to come look?’

“Sure!”

Zol starts to hover over when there is an intense tugging feeling and it nearly knocks them out of the tree. Their rifle falls to the ground, and Zol is wobbling in the air. 

“Ten something’s wrong wi-” Then he drops like a rock without any warning, the light in his eye dim. 

Ten vaults themself across the tree branch and barely manages to catch their ghost. They feel sluggish and empty. There is a sense of dread building as there is just silence. Then pain begins.It envelops them entirely and the general feeling of tugging now feels like something is being torn out of them, that their skin is being pulled off or their heart being ripped out from the inside. A scream rips itself from their throat and it echoes throughout the forest. In the distance, those could be Fallen, or their own screams echoing in their ears. Everything is on fire. Their entire body is burning and they scream impossibly louder. Death right now would be a mercy, and they would wish for it if they could even think. Is that even them screaming now or did they find themself in a crowded room? Ten cannot think, they cannot feel anything but the pain. It is all-encompassing and enveloping.

At some point they feel nothing around them, then a sudden different kind of pain in their back and head. Did something hit them? Did they fall? Something feels cold on their back and they hazily realize it’s snow. Did they fall? Why is everything hurting? Zol..where is Zol? Did they hold onto him?

They stop screaming after what feels like hours and just lay there, the weight of Zol in their hand providing minuscule amounts of comfort. They still have him. They didn’t let go of him. Everything still feels hazy and distant and just empty. This feels so much like after His death but so different at the same time. Instead of just their chest being empty, their entire body feels light and heavy at the same time. There is no feeling of the void in their veins. What happened? Why do they feel so empty and alone?

Clouded eyes just stare up at the branches of the trees, the sun breaking through and blinding their half-closed eyes. 

Footsteps and voices grow closer as an unidentifiable time passes. Has it been hours or just minutes? They can’t really hear over the constant ringing, but the voices sound familiar. Not the ones they really personally want, but they’re familiar. Someone is picking them up, and their grip tightens on Zol. They hope it does. Their limbs don’t want to work right or corporate anymore.

Ten slips into an uneasy painful sleep, plagued by nightmares of a fire going out and screams echoing everywhere. They dream for the first time in awhile of Ter’s death, of Andal going off and not coming back alive. They dream Osiris and Saint-14 vanishing and never returning, with no one knowing where they are. They dream of faces that fade to dust and vanish into nothing; people long forgotten that are nowhere in history and names that have not been spoken for centuries.

Ten wakes up with a sharp breath in a room that is far too bright. Their head is killing them and everything is sore. Trying to sit up just results in a jolt of pain from every muscle in their body. Fucking hell. What happened? Weren’t they just...they were in the forest with Zol and then he dropped to the ground and... Where is Zol?!

They jump up and promptly fall over, groaning quietly. Everything hurts. Their entire body feels like a Servitor fell on them. There is also this growing emptiness and numbness that is everywhere. It feels like a massive part of them is missing. Hazel eyes travel upwards and Ten’s heart stops. No...this can’t be happening. It isn’t possible. Ten hopes they’re still in those fading nightmares, that what in front of them isn’t real.

On top of their desk is Zol, with just the usual scuff marks and small dents, nothing obviously new. Two things are different. His eye is dim, and through their connection there is nothing. Not a spark or a blip. Just dead silence. They crawl over to him, managing to weakly knock him off of their desk into their lap. Even those actions hurt to do. Everything just hurts. Their muscles and bones ache; their damn soul creaks and groans as they make the smallest movements.

The metal is cold in their hands, not anything similar to the faint warmth he usually has. There is just...nothing. There is not an inkling of light in him. Not the tiniest of threads or a hair of the Traveler’s light. There is none in him, and none in themself. 

Tears well in their eyes. He can’t be...no that isn’t possible. He doesn’t seem damaged, so maybe he isn't broken. But why isn’t he online? Why is he not floating around and bugging them to eat or to go investigate this new thing he found? Centuries they’ve had each other, and for centuries nothing has happened to him. Is it their fault? He isn’t broken physically but maybe something else happened or when they feel from the tree they dropped him. No no, he had shut off before that. Maybe it was a new Fallen device. But then why were they able to make it home? They feel utterly empty and depleted. 

There is no movement from them for who knows how long. They just sit on their cold floor for who, just holding Zol close. They failed him as his guardian. They let him down and got him possibly killed. This is a failure on their part. As a Guardian, Ten thinks they failed him. They did not protect their ghost to the best of their ability. Now he’s gone...

Someone walks in, they don’t look up from the floor. The weight on their entire body is an odd contrast to the empty. Both manifesting throughout their entire body. They just stare down at their ghost as the person kneels in next to them. There is no light from them either, at least from what Ten can tell. Is it because they themself have none or is it because neither of them do?

“Ten..” The voice starts before trailing off, a soft whirring nearby. “Ten I need to tell you something. We lost our light. None of us has it, and none of our ghosts are active. Ima cut her arm to test it and no ghost, and no light to heal it. The doctor patched her up and she’s fine. Obviously frustrated and confused but physically okay.”

Ten looks up and it is Devish, the EXO hunter who came here to just learn from them. They can tell he’s nervous, and looking to them for answers. He is young in Guardian terms, only been around for a few years. Long enough to know to listen, but young enough to be stupid.

‘How did this happen?’ Their hands are shaky and still holding onto Zol; they can’t let go.

“I don’t know how. No one in the city is responding and we can’t reach anyone else. We have no clue. Maybe the Fallen got into the city or something...we really aren’t sure.

Devish keeps talking, but Ten slips away into their thoughts. Shock grasping at them. The light is gone, Zol is possibly dead or just offline, they hope the latter. Along with no light, there is no word from the city. Light gone, Zol gone, and the city’s most likely gone too. Oh shit, no.

Their heart stops for a second time. Snow. Oh, gods, Snow was heading towards the city before this happened! They hoped during the previous evening that he made it to the city, but if the city fell..Crap crap crap. Comms are down and no word from anyone at all. They’re flying blind in the wilds and now their only fucking living friend could be dead.

Ten knows he can take care of himself, but without light? Without Light any Guardian is vulnerable, completely and utterly mortal. Shit, this isn’t good. Ten takes a deep breath. He is going to be fine. This is Snow they’re talking about. If someone would be able to survive whatever is going on without Light, it would be him.

Later that day they find walking towards an empty watchtower, climbing it to just stare out at the darkening forest as the sun sets. Dinner doesn’t really seem appetizing, so they’re avoiding it and hoping no one notices for once. With a town this small, they know someone probably already has.

They are in casual clothes, no armor. Apparently, they might have bruised some ribs because of the fall. Doc isn’t sure, but she doesn’t want to take any chances. So no armor for a week or two, which is..it’s the least worst thing of their day so far. Casual trousers and a top, something they almost never wear. Some people in Noc almost didn’t recognize them as they walked to the watchtower to watch the forest. Their armor is well-known, along with their cloak.

Something moves next to them and they expect a nudge on their cheek or a soft worried hum. Nothing. Right...Zol is gone. Next to them is Devish, one of their best students so far. 

“Anything out there?” Devish asks quietly as he adjusts himself next to them. The watchtower is not really meant for two people. The hunter hasn’t really left Ten alone since they woke up. Ten while appreciating it, is a little confused. Devish has other friends here that he knows much better and for longer. His two other friends came with him to Noc. A Titan, and a Warlock; the only two ones in all of Noc. His fireteam. People who he relies on and won’t abandon...so why is he so concerned about them? They’re just his teacher really. 

“Ten?”

They look over at him, blinking. A sigh and they look back out at the forest, knee pulled up their chest and an arm resting on it.

“You should come eat some dinner.”

Silence.

“Ten, come on.”

Ten hesitates for second before they stand up. Sitting here being worried won’t fix any of the issues, and they need to set an example. If they’re falling apart because of worry, or fear, the others might start to also. So they grit their teeth, shove down their worry, and step up.

Dinner passes slowly, and Ten excuses themself early. Soft steps carry them to the communication building. Xanat is in there, headphones on and trying to tune the radio. A tap on the shoulder and the blonde woman jumps in her seat. 

“Oh Ten, hi! Whatcha need?” 

‘Any news?’

Xanat lets out a sigh and slips her headphones off, stretching her back.

“No...not yet. Sorry.”

The days start to blur together, with Ten frequenting the communications building. Xanat picks up a broadcast to evacuate off the planet from Zavala, but it is grainy and unclear. It sparks some hope in the Guardians. A chance, they silently pray. Ten uses this to cling to their own personal hope. Maybe Snow survived the city, and maybe Cayde and their few other friends in the Tower did too. They are all capable Guardians, so, they had to be able to get off planet somehow and make it to evacuation coordinates. They have to hope that they’ll see their friends again. 

That small flicker makes the days a little easier, not much though. With the Cabal slowly creeping over the EDZ, the Fallen are getting closer to Noc and in higher numbers. Noc has gotten lucky so far, with the lack of raids. The town is still on a lockdown though, and only heavily guarding scavenging groups can go out. Even then there are deaths outside the walls, and Noc is in a perpetual state of grief. Funeral after funeral. Everything is a day to day survival at best, and minute to minute at the very worst. The Fallen are growing bolder, and Malar is worried a large scale attack is going to occur soon. So no more scavenging missions or scouting. Malar stops them all. He and Cadence order everyone to begin reinforcing the walls and bunkers. Everyone is making to carry some sort of weapon at any time if they know how to use it; if people don’t know how to use a gun yet, they either get one of the swords Snow made the town or any sort of melee weapon. Malar wants everyone to be able to defend themself. He wants everyone prepared. They are under siege, and he doesn’t want to lose any more people of Noc. 

Ten often finds themself in the watchtowers, just staring out at the forest. Heart heavy and soul empty. They’re the Scouting Leader, and they have no scouting to do. They sit and watch as the town is on a precipice of panic and hopelessness. Ten just watches and helps best they can. They always watched, and advised, but now they are helping to lead. They need to. Tearing their eyes away from the forest, they climb down from the tower. Ten heads to their home at the back end of town. It’s one of the more mix-matched houses simply because it’s been remade and fixed up over centuries. They walk into the main room and are greeted with a stifling silence. It was always silent, even before the Red War. But now...

Ten takes Zol from their side bag and gently sets him in a nest-like bundle of cloth and twigs. The cold metal stings against the abrasions and cuts on their hands. Their heart hurts even more. There was always silence, but never complete loneliness. Zol rests in silence and Ten moves into the back room, where their weapons and various armor is. This room is even worse. Not only is their gear here, but there are small mementos of people important to them that they knew, and lost. It hurts, but it usually isn’t this crushing. They aren’t usually a complete morbid reminder of everything that they lost and will never have again. Some are, and that’s why they are put in a safe place. Now it all hurts too much. Now it all is tearing at them. What is the most haunting to Ten is that they have had the sick morbid thoughts of what will be added next. They’ve thought of their friends and what would they add next. Because it’s been months, and they haven’t heard anything! Not an update or a new broadcast. Just silence. 

Ten blinks and tears run down their face. They don’t want to lose anyone again, they know it’s life but..they’ve lost so many. It’s the way of a Guardian, but, it hurts. Ten wraps themself in their cloak and lets themself start to sob. So few names etched on their heart, but the scars of their loss hurt like nothing else. Some with closure but some without. Osiris is gone, and Saint-14, and so is Andal, along with Jarren, and generations of Noc that are gone and buried. Many of those people now just dust and bones. 

They don’t want to add any new momentos from this fucking war. They don't want one of  Cayde, or even Ikora, or hell, even Zavala. They may not have heard their voice, but Ten’s known those three for such a large portion of their life. Gods...they don’t... 

They press the palms of their hands to their eyes to try to stop the onslaught of tears. They don’t want to add one for Snow. The first person in a long fucking time to not only hear their voice but who is someone they really truly trust. If they have to add...no. They’re done thinking about this.

It takes a lot of effort, but Ten is able to pull themself away from their gear room and drag themself up to their small bedroom on the second floor. They can’t be weak like that again, not while there is a siege on Noc and the war on the Guardians. Ten locks away the fears of losing everyone and starts to focus on the now and today. There are walls that need repairing, people that need to be fed and protected. No time for worry over the friends that are far away, or the grief over people long dead. Time is precious, and they can’t waste it. Ten refuses to burn more time being overly sentimental with things past.

It’s time to be focused, and do their job. With their job comes occasional treks into the forest and finding Fallen camps that got to close. Without light though, it becomes only scouting. Malar forbids them from actually taking them out. He doesn’t want to risk it. They get it, but they’ve been doing this for centuries and know the Fallen in and out. Light or no light, they can handle a small enough Fallen camp.  

So they step quietly and with skill through the forest. They stick to the shadows, as they have for centuries. The camp is easy to find and it’s only a few. Six Fallen total, and no Captain. A little too easy but well...Ten’s fingers grip their rifle a little tighter. Malar said not too, but it’s just six. Which is a little odd, but well..they shouldn’t. No. They’re taking out the camp. It’ll help the town in the long run.

Check the chamber, aim, fire. One enemy drops with a skilled headshot to the head. It collapses to the ground with a thud. They fire another shot, and another Fallen goes down before any of them can react. Finally, one more before their enemies realize what is going on, and start to hide behind cover. The Fallen doesn’t know exactly where their attacker is, but the Fallen know to hide. Their chitters and screeches fill the air. Centuries of hearing them and Ten knows exactly what they’re saying. That stupid title pops up. It annoys them to no end, but it serves a purpose. Now it is just hiding their targets from them. The longer they’re out here the more exposed they are.

Ten shakes their head and shifts positions along the shadows of the trees to get a better angle of the remaining six Fallen. They wait for him to pop his head out and within a fraction of a second, a bullet is flying towards him. The Marauder collapses to the ground and the others try to scatter again. Easy pickings.

Five left. One shot to the back of the head leaves four, and another headshot leaves just three... All taken down with a single headshot from their Rifle. They shift positions again and walk silently up behind one and two. One doesn’t even have time to turn around as their fellow Fallen is killed before Ten stabs them in the head. They clean off their knife on their pants and glance around the camp. Nothing major...huh. Maybe they found the wrong camp. The scouting parties usually have... seven... Oh shit! 

Ten manages to turn and dodge an electric spear slash just barely. Their rifle is dropped as they dodge the slash. That Wretch was hiding! In all their years they very rarely see them hiding or planning..shit this isn’t good. Well, it isn’t terrible, but that means this Wretch is a little smarter than normal. Which can be bad. They managed to pull out their knife during the dodge, okay, they can work with this. Ten rolls under the next slash and stabs the Wretch in the knee as they roll. It bends forward a bit but recovers fast enough to hit Ten in the neck with the butt of its spear. Ten blocks the next strike and stands as fast as they can manage, while also trying not to get slashed. Their hand cannon is on their hip and Ten waits for an opening. Their sword would be useful in this scenario, they just can’t easily unsheath it. They dodge and weave away from the Wretch’s slashes. It lands a strike on their face and eye. They get nicked in their right arm and it goes numb, their knife drops to the ground. Shit shit shit. Ten grunts as they kick the Wretch in the gut and it tumbles over; the spear cuts into their left leg as the Wretch falls, and it goes numb also. 

Without a moment of hesitation Ten unholsters their hand cannon and fires four rounds into the Wretch on the ground. The shots are messy and not aimed dead-center, but they hit the target. The wretch lies motionless on the ground. For good measure, they empty their entire chamber into the Wretch’s head. Just to be safe really.

They fall to the ground and groan in pain. Their arm and leg are bleeding, their back is in pain, and they can’t walk from their numb leg. They need to though. If they don’t move they could bleed out and then that really would not be good. Tearing cloth from anything in the camp, they messily bandage their leg and arm. Ten never really wanted to learn how difficult it was to do stuff with one hand, but here they are. Gritting their teeth as they stand, they start to limp into the woods. Gods it is hard to walk with a leg numb, nearly impossible. They have to find some makeshift walking stick and even then it’s hard. The sun is setting as they just collapse to the ground, and cannot get back up. They try, oh do they try to push themself to stand up again. Their body is tired and bleeding out; their arm and leg are not longer as numb but still do not wish to cooperate with the Guardian.

Ten tries and tries. They don’t want to die out here in the woods, they don’t want to die at all. Dying means they leave Noc to the Fallen, and Zol to be Guardianless in the world if he ever wakes up. Death means all those unknown people they care about who don’t have plaques with their names on them or weapons named after them, they will all be forgotten. Words whispered late at night will fade to nothing, and promises made will be forever broken if they die. They will not die. They refuse. 

Ten grunts as they just barely manage to push themself off of the ground and continue walking. The time between then and making it to Noc’s gates is blurry and filled with excruciating pain. When they regain consciousness they are in the infirmary building of Noc. The doctor is standing above them with a look of worry. 

“Ten, how are you feeling?”

They give her a shrug and close their eyes again. The Guardian isn’t tired, just, they don’t want to see the look of pity on the doctor’s face. They know it’s pathetic for them to be in here, the irony isn’t lost to Ten. 

After two weeks of mandatory bed rest, Ten is on watchtower duty indefinitely. Not as a punishment, but also, it really is a form of punishment. It’s mainly because they’re still injured, and it is getting even more dangerous out in the woods. The Fallen are building to something, and Malar doesn’t want to lose anyone else before that. Ten agrees with that, but it is still frustrating. The days pass slowly and without much incident, thankfully almost to be considered boring. 

One late afternoon,  Ten peers through their scope out to woods. They swear they can hear a ship, but, why would one be coming out here? That doesn’t make any sense at all. Well, they are proven wrong when the sounds get closer, and then the familiar sound of a Guardian transmatting from a ship reaches their ears. What the fuck? They turn their rifle towards the gate, where the sound seemed to originate, but can’t see beyond the wall. Of course, they have the watchtower with no easy sight line to the tower.

They climb down from the tower slower than they would really like too. Stupid leg and arm injury. Despite those, they begin to sprint across Noc towards the gates. A hand keeping their rifle on their back, and the other used to keep their bag still. They don’t want Zol to get hurt as they run. When they get closer their eyes widen. No...this couldn’t be possible. It  _ shouldn’t  _ be possible. There is no way in hell this can be real. Skidding to a stop, they see someone they never thought they would see again walking through the metal gates of Noc. In front of them is their stupidly tall friend, and he isn’t dead. Holy shit he isn’t dead. Thandaa is floating next to him and not offline. Ten just stares at the two of them. So what they felt wasn’t them thinking they did, they felt his light. He has his light.

Snow is glancing around and they step forward slowly before they break into a sprint. They hear Thandaa say something before they reach Snow, then Ten is hugging their friend so tightly. Height difference (or image to the townsfolk) be damned. They hug Snow and don’t let go. They thought he was dead. There was the hope he wasn’t, but, he was without light and in the probably in the city. This one friend, this singular friend, isn’t gone. He came back; they didn’t lose another one in this unforgiving world. 

He hugs them back just as tightly and tears well in their eyes. Shit, they can’t cry. So to hide the unwelcome tears, they bow their head a bit and just hug their friend. They can almost feel the arc light around as they hug. The feeling of Light is almost foreign now, but also so comforting. There it is. It isn’t their light specifically, but it’s Light. It’s something. 

“What? You thought those Cabal could kill me, Ten?” His voice is quiet and joking.

They can’t help but roll their eyes and try not to sniffle back the tears.  _ Fuck _ , they’ve missed him. He isn’t dead. He isn’t lost somewhere and not coming back. They find their voice. It is broken and horse and so quiet Snow can barely hear it. 

It’s clear that Ten is on the verge of crying as they whisper, “You’re here.”

“Where else would I be?”

“You’re okay, right? Like, physically okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine Ten. But-” Snow pulls back from the hug and finally gets a good look at his friend. “You look like shit. Why didn’t Zol heal this stuff?” 

Ten knows they look like shit. They have a black eye, and their arm wound is clearly bandaged. There are bruises and small cuts covering their arms, apparently, the Wretch hit them more than they had originally thought. Which was fun to find out when they woke up.

Thandaa is hovering close by, and they can feel her eye on them. At the mention of Zol they pipe up. 

“Where is Zol? I want to brag all about the fact that Snow got his light back.”

Their throat clams up and words won’t come anymore. They’re tense and the bag on their hip grows ten times heavier. Their hands stay frozen at their side, unable to be moved just as much as they can’t move their mouth to speak. Do all the other Guardians have their light back or just their ghosts? Did they expect Zol to be online despite no light..?

“Ten?” Snow asks as his friend just stares at his chest.

A few long seconds pass and they are able to get their hands to move enough to sign this to Snow. 

‘He isn’t online.’

Then their troublesome hands reach to their bag, and with gentle hands pull out their ghost. His lightless cold shell is heavy in their hands. They can feel Thandaa and Snow staring. Ten does not look up to meet their eyes as they hold Zol. They suspect the two of them really thought Zol was going to be online, just hovering worriedly next to Ten, like always. Well, life decided to say fuck that, and leave Ten alone to deal with being Lightless. They put him back into their bag, and look back up at Snow. There is a look of resolve in his eyes, it was there before but Ten finally notices. 

“There’s a way to get him back.”

Ten’s eyes widen and their hands sporadically move, ‘What?! How.’

“There is a shard of the Traveler in the Dark Woods, it’s in a different part of the EDZ. That’s where we got our light back from though, and other Guardians have too. You can get your Light back Ten.”

Ten is smiling now, almost hopefully. If they get their Light back, then they can more easily protect Noc. With Light that means Zol will be back. With Light...they can have some hope that everything will be okay.

They don’t make it to the shard before their hope is torn and shredded by a cruel twist of fate. The Fallen burn almost everything, turning it into smoke, ash, and broken hope. Ten is alone, and standing among the rubble with no one to help them. 


End file.
